


Dark Waters

by vickjawn (awshitzombies)



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canonical Character Death, Drowning, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Partial Mind Control, Past Child Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:59:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6896716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awshitzombies/pseuds/vickjawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon his brother's untimely death, Timothy inherits a tiny island that they used to frequent during their childhood summers. The island is different now, the nearby town of Sanctuary completely unwilling to go near it, but Timothy, broke and depressed, decides to set up shop there until he can sell it. Weird things start happening during his stay, and Timothy begins questioning his sanity - until the sudden arrival of Axton, Timothy’s old childhood friend/almost-boyfriend, who quickly becomes his legit boyfriend. Timothy begins to heal in his company. But strange things keep happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Waters

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a trope meme on my tumblr that got outrageously out of hand very quickly. The prompt was Mythical Creature/Human.

Timothy lit another cigarette and cursed as he dropped his lighter between the seats of his little blue sedan. He didn’t bother trying to fumble for it, knowing from past experience he’d never be able to wedge his big dumb hands between the seats to grab the little golden zippo.

Just his luck, he mused bitterly, blowing a cloud of smoke out the open window.

A minute down the road, he passed a sign that marked the entry to Sanctuary. Sanctuary was a little shore village at the very edge of a body of water known locally as Pandora’s Bay. At one point in time, it had been a well-sought vacation spot, but these days the only people roaming the streets were the locals, people who had lived in Sanctuary all their lives and saw no point in leaving now.

Timothy had been one of those locals once, at least during the summer when he, his twin brother Jack, and his grandmother would come down to the house she owned on the bay. He’d spent ten or so summers in that place. It was a part of his childhood.

And now it was his. But he didn’t want to think about what that meant, at least not at the moment, so he shoved it out of his mind and focused on the drive into town.

There was only one road in and out of Sanctuary, and as Timothy predicted, he ran into no one coming the other way. Eventually the marshlands on either side of him gave way to trees, and then actual roadside buildings, though most had seen better days. The buildings that lined the main road were shops and motels, with houses packing the one-way streets that stemmed off from the main road. The shore was to the right of him as he drove; he could catch glimpses of Pandora’s Bay in between the buildings he passed - gray and massive on the horizon.

He slowed down as one particularly familiar building came into view. Miss Moxxi’s Diner. He had a sudden vivid flashback of his dumb brother heckling him to flirt with the owner of the place, who at the time had been maybe ten years older than them and drop-dead gorgeous. Timothy had entertained many thoughts of he and Moxxi getting hitched and raising their kids here, but, like most of his dreams and desires, it had never come to fruition.

He pulled into one of the many available parking spaces in front of the diner. He took a moment to stare up at the sign that, at one time, had been a vibrant red and purple but now sat faded and gray, like most of the town. There were lights on inside the place, though, so it wasn’t completely destitute of business, even if it was just mostly locals stopping by for lunch.

Stubbing out his cigarette, he got out of his car for the first time since entering Sanctuary. The telltale smell of a seaside town hit him, caressing his face and making his eyes water. It was breezy - it was always breezy - and there was a dampness in the air that made him shiver and pull his hoodie tighter around his neck.

“Timothy Lawrence, is that you?” boomed a familiar voice from behind him. Timothy turned to see one of the locals, a jolly older fellow named Mister Winger, heading towards him, a large grin on his tan face. “Wowee, lookit you, boy! Shot up like a weed, didn’t ya? What happened to that fifteen-year-old punk that used to give me trouble on a daily basis?”

“Officer Winger,” Timothy greeted, only to note the shiny little badge clipped onto his shirt. “Oh, deputy now, huh? Congrats.”

“Yup!” the older man said, grinning toothily down at the star. “Been that way for a while now. It only took me ten years to get promoted, so I figure it’ll be another twenty before I actually make sheriff.”

“Well, good luck. I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”

“Aw, shucks, son.” He gestured to the diner. “Wanna get some grub and catch up on things? I haven’t seen you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper.”

Timothy let out a snort. “I’ve been taller than you since I was twelve,” he pointed out as he followed the deputy.

They entered the building together, and Timothy was struck by just how much the place hadn’t changed in the time he’d been gone. Moxxi was behind the counter, older but still just as beautiful as she had been twenty years ago. Timothy was beginning to wonder if she aged at all.

“Morning, deputy,” she purred, only to blink at the sight of his companion. “Timothy Lawrence. I’ll be damned. Never thought I’d see you around these parts again.”

Neither did he, to be honest. “It’s good to see you, Moxxi,” he offered, cracking a bashful smile. “You - you look great.”

Moxxi’s painted lips quirked up in a smile. “Thanks, sugar. You didn’t turn out so bad yourself.”

Timothy’s blush darkened and he ducked his head. Deputy Winger clapped him on the back and gestured for him to sit on one of the stools that lined the counter.

“The usual, deputy?” Moxxi asked.

“Please. What’ll you have, boy? My treat.”

Timothy hummed. “You still make those meatball subs, Moxxi?” he asked, watching as she poured them both a glass of water.

“Just for you.” She winked at him, then disappeared to bark orders at whoever her current chef was in the back.

Timothy pulled his glass of water closer and took a sip from it. As strange as it was being back in Sanctuary, especially on his own, there were also things about it that he’d missed.

Winger shifted in his seat. “Heard about what happened,” he said, frowning that same frown Timothy had seen at least once a day since the accident - the frown that said ‘I’m sorry for your loss but it was only a matter of time anyway.’ “Saw it on the news. My condolences.”

Timothy just shrugged and muttered out a quiet thank-you. The only person he felt sorry for was Nisha, who had been in the passenger seat of his brother’s new Bentley Continental when he had wrapped it around a utility pole.

“Jack liked to live fast,” he offered. “So I guess it was only fitting he’d die that way, too.”

Winger’s face screwed up in a sympathetic grimace. “Is that what brings you back this way? Just tryin’ to clear your head and all that?”

“Not quite. My brother left me Helios in his will.”

That made Winger freeze for half a second. “Did he now? Mighty kind of him,” he said stiffly, forcing a smile onto his face. “You gonna try to sell the place?”

Timothy shrugged. “Maybe. Gotta see what kind of condition it’s in. If it’s in decent shape, I might try to set up shop there for a while.” Lord knows he didn’t have anywhere else to go these days. Ever since the accident, he’d been driving around in his little sedan, more or less living out of it. He could use a real roof over his head, if only for a few weeks.

“Ah, well, we’d love to have you around,” Winger offered, finally shaking off the strange paralysis that had seized him. “And you know if you ever need anythin’, just gimme a holler. You remember where everythin’ is, right? The general store, the bank, the library, all that?”

Timothy nodded. “I remember more than I thought I would. Things don’t change around here much, huh?”

Winger snorted. “‘Course not. Hell, the last major thing that happened was - ” He cut himself off in the same second Timothy felt his veins go cold. “Well, this conversation just keeps gettin’ more and more morbid, huh? Let’s change the subject. How’s school?”

“Graduated,” Timothy said, clearing his throat. “Majored in creative writing." Which was why he was currently broke and unemployed.

Their food arrived then, and Timothy dug in, grateful for an excuse to stop conversing.

~

After lunch, Deputy Winger helped him lug his few duffel bags of personal belongings to the town’s docks. There was a little motor-propelled boat there that he could use to get himself to and from the island free of charge.

“Be careful,” the deputy said, his worried gaze on the tiny island in the middle of the bay. “These waters are different now. Nobody swims in ‘em anymore.”

“Why? Pollution?”

Winger blinked. “Don’t fall in.”

The deputy left him to it without much more of a goodbye, and Timothy set off for Helios, mindful to keep himself away from the edge of his tiny boat.

~

As soon as he docked, Timothy wasted little time in hauling his belongings up the winding path that led to the old cabin, wanting to make the trip in one go. The path was only slightly overgrown, he noted. He wondered if the pathway up the hill towards the cliffside portion of the island was in as good condition. He made a mental note to check it out later, maybe tomorrow once he was settled in.

For not being tended to for almost twenty years, the cabin was in remarkably good shape. The roof was a little green in places, the front porch showing signs of termite activity on a small portion of the railing, but most of the place had held up rather well. The walls and inside floorboards weren’t rotted, and although there was a damp smell throughout most of the house, Timothy couldn’t find any signs of water damage anywhere. The generator out back was still functioning, and there was even two barrels of fuel left for him to use.

After their grandmother died and left Jack all of her wealth, he had tried to rent Helios out to vacation goers, but by then most of the town was still reeling from the death of one of their own and zero offers had been made, even as the chaos waned. By all rights, the place should have collapsed in on itself by now. And yet.

What was probably the most confusing was that there was no dust inside the cabin - at least not the amount that Timothy had been expecting to find upon walking through the front door. The pots and pans hanging on the wall by the stove were clean, as were the curtains and window sills and the photos lining the mantle above the fireplace.

The condition of the island and its contents probably should have freaked him out more than it did. But he was exhausted, mentally and physically, and really wanted nothing more than to just lie down and sleep for a day or so.

He made for the bedrooms. The smaller bedroom he shared with Jack still bore signs of their childhood - toys like butterfly nets and basketballs and whatnot scattered about. They had been expecting to come back the next summer, after all, so they had seen no point in cleaning up.

The top bunk was still unmade. Jack always refused to make it, just like he refused to let Timothy have a shot at the top bunk on occasion, too. He was older, he used to say, so he got to be higher up. It hadn’t made any sense, but Timothy had never seen any sense in fighting with his brother anyway. Jack always won.

Timothy shut the door and went to the master bedroom, where the memories were sparser and the bed bigger.

That night, he dreamt of a violent, black sea beneath gray skies. When he woke the next morning, there were a pair of eyes staring at him from the open window next to the bed. Timothy blinked and they were gone, but the window was still open, filling the room with the scent of the sea.

~

Timothy had no choice but to go to town to buy some supplies later that day. He had limited funds, but Jack had been generous enough to leave him a small portion of his immense wealth in his will alongside Helios, so he wouldn’t go hungry just yet.

On the boat ride back to the mainland, Timothy entertained the idea of getting a job someplace in town to make some extra cash. Moxxi might be hiring, maybe something as simple as a dishwasher. There was the general store, the post office - loads of places that might need a hand. He knew there were people that fished from the bay, so maybe he could offer assistance there, too.

The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized just how damn unappealing a job sounded. It wasn't like he was planning on staying here for long - not if he could help it. By the time he docked his little tin boat, he had put the idea from his mind entirely.

The town’s general store was run by a older dude with an eyepatch. Timothy couldn’t recall his name, but that was okay because the man didn’t recognize him either and made no move to actually hold a conversation with him. His little daughters, however, ran around him in circles the entire time he was roaming up and down the aisles in search of food and toiletries.

“Do you live on that island?” Sasha, the younger girl, asked. “What’s it called?”

“Helios. And yes, I do.”

“Is it full of ghosts? Are you a ghost?” She jabbed him in the leg, making him hiss and glare at her. “Oh, guess not.”

“Why do you think it’s full of ghosts?” he asked the sisters as he snagged a box of off-brand cereal off the shelf to his left. He wrinkled his nose at the price. Definitely a rip-off.

“That’s what our dad said,” Fiona supplied, rocking back and forth on her heels. “He said one day a long time ago, the sun went away and it’s all because of that island. Bad things happen there - like that kid drowning.”

The sudden mentioning of the event almost made Timothy balk. He had been doing so well, putting that memory out of his mind. Now all he could see was Wilhelm’s pale face disappearing beneath the waters of the bay - water that had, up until that very moment, been still and peaceful.

“That was a long time ago,” Sasha pointed out, bringing Timothy back to the present. “Now there’s just ghosts.”

Shaking it off, Timothy’s frown deepened. “Well, I spent the night there and I haven’t seen any ghosts,” he reported. “It’s probably just a story your dad made up to keep you and the other kids from sneaking off there.”

“Told you,” Fiona said, turning to glare at Sasha. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Well, Timothy wouldn’t say _that_. He had plenty of ghosts tormenting him.

“He’s only been there for a day,” Sasha fired back, sticking her tongue out. “The ghosts’ll come out soon and get him, just like they got that kid.”

Timothy couldn’t bring himself to argue with her. He paid for his goods, then made a hasty retreat for Helios.

~

He spent the rest of the day exploring the island. It wasn’t big by any means - he could do a lap of the perimeter in under ten minutes - but he took his time, trying to get reacquainted with the place after not being there for so long. The trees were all the same, the foliage and sparse wildflowers almost exactly as he remembered leaving them. It was like the entire place had entered a no-passing zone in regards to time.

Again, he should have been weirded out. The locals were clearly afraid of this place, so by all rights he should have been at least a little bit wary of it. But it was just an island. There were worse things to be afraid of.

He stopped by a birch tree, the only one on the island, and noticed the shapes carved into it. He and another boy from the mainland, Axton, had carved their names into it his last summer here. Like the rest of the island, it too had been untouched by time.

He traced the outlines in the bark, smiling softly as memories burbled to the surface of his mind. He had spent many of his summers here with that boy, frolicking in the cool, clear waters and getting into mischief. Jack had hated him, which was one of the many reasons why Timothy enjoyed having Axton around. Axton gave him the guts to stand up to his brother on more than one occasion.

Timothy turned to face the mainland, wondering if Axton was still around. He had forgotten to ask anyone while he’d been over there. Well, he still wanted to check out the library and a few of the other mom-and-pop stores, so maybe he could ask around then.

That night, he started a fire in the fireplace and enjoyed a sandwich and some soup. The generator chugged dutifully outside, filling the house with a dim light and allowing Timothy to plug in his laptop to write. He hadn’t been able to churn out anything decent since the accident, but maybe things were different now.

Sometime later he was waking up from another strange dream to find himself standing on the front porch, barefoot and shivering from the cold wind.

“What the hell,” he grumbled, hugging his arms to his chest as he stormed back inside. Sleepwalking. Great. He really needed that going on in his life.

The fire was only embers now, the house cold thanks to the generator being automatically shut off after a certain time. His laptop was still open and on the floor now. He went to scoop it up, fearful he’d broken it, only to freeze when he met two wide eyes staring at him from the window across from him.

He blinked, the eyes were gone, and Timothy began to question his sanity.

~

Before the sun was up, Timothy made his way down to the dock, needing some fresh air after tossing and turning the rest of last night. A few of the boards had come loose or were gone completely. He found himself thinking that the rest of the island’s man-made contents should have looked like the dock - the wood faded to a sickly gray, warped from the sea and splintered from storms.

He made it to the end of the path and plunked himself down, fumbling for his cigarettes. He was down to his last pack - another excuse to head back to town. He should probably just buy a box of the damned things, at the rate he was smoking them.

If Athena could see him now, she'd be smacking the pack out of his hands into the sea and dragging him off to buy one of those nicotine patches, he mused sadly. Disgust for himself quickly overwhelmed him again, leaving him staring blankly out to sea as the cigarette in his mouth slowly burnt out.

He sat there until the sun was above the horizon, a pale yellow orb just barely visible through the thick cloud cover. He finished one cigarette, reached for another, and promptly dropped his zippo between his legs into the water.

“Fuck!” he yelled, screaming the word as loud as he could. His voice surged across the bay before being swallowed up by its churning dark waters.

Timothy screamed again and hurled the rest of his cigarettes into the water, then his hoodie when he ripped it off his body in his fit of rage.

His voice stopped echoing across the bay around the same time his anger abruptly deserted him, leaving him a shivering, cigarette-less mess on the edge of a crumbling dock. He sank to his knees and curled in on himself, shuddering with noiseless sobs as he buried his face in his hands.

Eventually he peeled himself away from the black hole that was his mind and reached over the side of the dock, snagging his hoodie before it could sink out of reach or get swept out into the deeper waters of the bay. He blinked down at his reflection for a second, hating what he saw staring back at him.

Not for the first time since he arrived on the island, he considered submerging himself into the bay.

~

He had just struck a match to light his cigarette when he heard the rumbling of Deputy Winger’s old station wagon rolling into the parking spot next to his.

“Howdy, son,” the man said cheerfully as he got out of his car. “Glad to see you stuck around. What brings you back to town so soon?”

Timothy waggled his lit cigarette. “Breakfast.”

“Ah.” Winger turned to stare out at the bay. The tops of the trees on Helios could just be seen over the roof of the building across the street. “That island treatin’ you okay? I can’t believe that cabin is actually livable.”

“Me either.” Timothy took a deep drag, relishing the burn in his chest and the fluttering in his veins as the nicotine made its rounds. “Everything’s in great shape.”

“You gonna sell it, then?”

“It didn’t sell seventeen years ago when we tried. Nobody even wanted to rent the place for a summer - not with the reputation you guys have given it.”

He didn’t mean for his words to bite, but he didn’t apologize for it. Winger ducked his head, a little embarrassed, but made no move to apologize, either.

“There just somethin’ ain’t right about that place,” Winger mumbled. “There was somethin’ weird about it long before you and your brother showed up.”

Timothy shook his head. It was that kind of talk that repelled potential buyers. He’d be stuck with that damned island until he ate shit, too, he thought bitterly, blowing smoke out of his nostrils.

A sudden thought occurred to him. “Hey, since I’ve got you here - I was wondering if Axton was still around.” Maybe seeing his old friend would cheer him up.

Winger’s brow creased. “Who?” he started to ask, only to get distracted by his cell phone shrieking out some awful whistling tune. He held up a finger as he yanked the phone out of its holster and barked a quick greeting into it.

Timothy couldn’t make out what was being said, but the increasingly worried expression on Winger’s face didn’t help put him at easy any.

“Be there in twenty,” Winger barked, already moving towards his vehicle. He snapped his phone shut and sent Timothy an apologetic look as he yanked the driver’s door open. “A fishing boat went down. Hit some of the rocks along the spits.”

Timothy grimaced. “Everyone okay?”

“Dunno. Sorry, Timothy, but I’m gonna have to catch up with you later.”

The deputy flicked on his sirens and sped off down the road, and Timothy returned to the island, now keenly aware of how choppy the waters were around his little white boat. They battered and pushed him, but he stayed afloat long enough to reach Helios.

That night, he had a dream about eyes the same shade of gray as the bay’s waters and the kind, youthful face they belonged to. When he woke, he was standing on the muddied path before the dock, his little gold lighter at his feet.

~

“Have you quit smoking yet?” Athena asked.

Timothy chuckled dryly into the phone. “Worse than ever, actually,” he mused, taking another drag from his fifth cigarette that day - and it wasn’t even noon yet. “How are things on your end? You and Janey still thinking of moving in?”

“Moved in as of last week, actually. It’s...taking some time to get used to,” the older woman mused, “but I don’t regret it. At least, not yet.”

“I heard that, luv!” Timothy heard Janey shout from the background. They shared a good chuckle before the conversation slipped to the inevitable.

“Tell me about your place. The cabin.”

“It’s…” Lonely. Serene. Frightening. Beautiful. “It’s okay. Not sure if I’m going to be able to sell it or not. The locals are convinced the place is cursed or something. It’s a little creepy, yeah, but…”

He trailed off, not sure whether or not he should mention the whole sleepwalking incident. It wouldn’t have bothered him too much if it didn’t seem like every time he woke up, he was closer and closer to the dock. The last thing he wanted to do was sleepwalk his way off the edge.

“Timothy, you know it’s not too late to come back here, right? We’ve got a spare room - ”

“I couldn’t do that to you,” he mumbled, digging his toes into the rocky sand of the shoreline. The tide was out, exposing what was typically hidden from him. “I’m okay, ‘Thena. Depressed and addicted to cigarettes, but okay.”

Athena made an angry tsking noise. “You just don’t want to come back here because you know I’ll make you quit.”

He didn’t want to come back because he was tired of being a burden, of leeching off of others when he was too weak to hold himself up. And he’d been weak for so, so long.

“I’m okay,” he said. He glanced up, noting a spot on the horizon.

“Okay,” Athena said, not sounding at all convinced. “Well, my offer still stands regardless.”

He blinked, and the horizon flattened out. “I’m okay,” he said again.

~

He woke up about halfway down the dock. It was pitch-black out, the moon smothered in the sky by the heavy cloud cover. It had been raining for most of the day and now the bay was swollen and angry.

Timothy blinked and sucked in a ragged shudder as another strong breeze pushed right past his thin t-shirt and sweatpants, chilling him to the bone.

He could hear the water sloshing below his feet. He wanted peer down through the slats - stupid, really, given how dark it was - but he was seized with a wave of paralysis before he could so much as twitch. Every last inch of him fell still, frozen as if time had stopped.

Panic surged through him, strangling his throat until it was so hard to breathe that the corners of his vision were turning as black as the water around him. For one intense moment, he was sure he was about to die.

_Back to bed_ , he thought suddenly, abruptly. It wasn’t his thought, nor was he truly controlling himself as he turned around and meandered back up the muddied path.

His head hit the pillow, and he woke later on that morning with muddied sheets and a terrible, awful feeling in his gut that no amount of binge-smoking could get rid of.

~

Over late breakfast, Timothy brought out his laptop and googled sleepwalking. Every article he skimmed over listed the same typical cause: sleep deprivation.

He scowled and slapped his laptop shut. Of course he was sleep deprived. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since the accident, and that was months ago. And even when he was able to pass out, he dreamed about the multitudes of things that kept him up: the morgue, the car ride home after grandma’s funeral, Wilhelm drowning in the bay three feet from him. No shit he didn’t want to sleep.

The websites mentioned hypnosis or other doctor-prescribed treatments, none of which Timothy could afford. He was shit out of luck, he figured.

He glanced out the window then, focusing on the gray waters just visible beneath the heavy fog that had set in over the area. He wouldn’t have minded the sleepwalking thing if he had someone else there to wake him up before he wound up toppling headfirst into the bay.

A sudden image of Wilhelm’s pale face right before he disappeared beneath those same waves stabbed through his head. With a mental blink, he was staring at himself being swallowed by the bay.

Shaking off his intrusive thoughts, Timothy reached for another cigarette with a trembling hand, brunch forgotten.

~

He was hanging the last of his laundry up to dry on the line when he sensed he wasn’t alone. That had become a typical sensation during his stay on Helios - the feeling of constantly being watched no matter where he was or what he was doing. Now, though, the sensation was quickly followed by the reassurance that he wasn’t completely losing it: the sound of a familiar voice calling his name.

Timothy turned to see Axton standing a few feet away. Timothy recognized him instantly despite him being seventeen years older and ten times as handsome.

“Ax,” he choked out, grinning. He took a step forward, moving as if to hug the man, but forced himself to chill out. It had been over ten years since he’d last seen him; hugging might be a little too weird at this point.

At the very least, Axton returned his grin. The corners of his eyes crinkled with the magnitude of it. “I heard you were back in town,” he said, swaggering forward. “Can’t believe it’s you, Tim. You look great. It’s been what, ten, fifteen years?”

Timothy choked on a wet laugh and unconsciously reached up to push his hair off his brow. “At least. You look - you look amazing,” he couldn’t help but breathe, taking in the man’s muscular arms, his broad chest, his handsome face. “You, uh, want to come in? It’s kinda a mess - I wasn’t expecting anyone…”

“Lead the way,” Axton said, gesturing towards the cabin with a sweep of one solid arm. “I’ve missed this place almost as much as I’ve missed you.”

With that being said, Timothy felt more than a little mortified by the state of the cabin’s interior. He had plates and dishes piled up in the sink, clothes tossed everywhere, his laptop and books and notebooks spread out all over the place. He hadn’t slept in the master bedroom in weeks, mostly because he hadn’t really been sleeping much.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Axton teased as he stepped over a bundle of clothes that needed to be put away.

“Just...trying to get situated.” Timothy shrugged stiffly, eyes on the wooden floor of the cabin. “This is all still really weird to me.”

Axton cocked his head. “Why didn’t you come find me when you first got here?”

Timothy shrugged again. “I tried, but then...I mean, I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be around,” he admitted, suddenly ashamed. “I’m hoping to sell Helios now that - now that Jack’s dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m glad,” Timothy blurted, meeting his gaze. It was the first time he was admitting that to anyone. “I - everyone keeps saying they’re sorry, but I’m - I’m not. Is it bad that I’m glad he’s gone?”

Axton merely blinked, expression void of any judgement. “He was a prick,” he offered simply, shrugging. “To you and everyone else he thought was below him. I ain’t gonna judge you for your real feelings, dude.”

Timothy nodded, lightheaded, and was grateful when Axton extended a hand to rest on his shoulder. It grounded him, assured him that this wasn’t one of his dreams.

“And for the record, I was sayin’ sorry for the fact that you’re thinkin’ of sellin’ this place.” Axton tilted his head, smirking a little. “I only just got you back, and now you wanna peace out again.”

Timothy blinked. He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. “Stay for dinner?” he asked. He wanted _that_ much.

Axton grinned, and Timothy felt his heart clench with a sensation he hadn’t felt in years.

~

“Afternoon, Moxxi,” Timothy called as he strolled into her diner. “What’s cookin’?”

The woman sized him up as he came to the counter. “You’re in far better spirits than you were the last time you were here,” she noted, lips curling in a smirk. “Who’s the lucky individual who got to take you home last night?”

Timothy turned as red as Moxxi’s apron. “N-no one,” he stuttered, chuckling. “I did catch up with an old friend, though.”

“Don’t leave out any juicy details, sugar.”

He chuckled again as she went to go get him a mug of fresh coffee. While she was distracted, he noticed the headline of the newspaper sitting just off to his left: _THREE MISSING IN BOATING ACCIDENT_. He pulled the paper closer and started skimming the article, quickly realizing that it was about that incident Deputy Winger had sped off to the last time they’d spoken. The sailors involved, three of them, all locals, hadn’t been recovered yet.

“This is unfortunate,” he commented to Moxxi when she came back with his coffee. “And they still don’t know what really happened?”

“Well, according to the papers, the sailors hit some rocks beneath the surface and tipped their boat.”

Timothy lifted his brows. “But that’s not what the locals are saying, huh?”

“Oh, of course not. It’s the usual cause of maritime disasters around here.”

“Um. Rogue waves?”

“Sirens.”

“ _Sirens_?” Timothy echoed flatly. “Seriously, Mox?”

Moxxi hummed, shrugging gracefully. “I’m just telling you what every other person in town over the age of forty is saying. Flood? Someone pissed off the sirens. Storm? Someone must have dumped waste into the bay again. Three experienced fishermen crash their boat and disappear without a trace? The sirens are hungry and the fish in the bay won’t do this time.”

“Aw, c’mon, seriously?” Timothy tossed the newspaper down on to the counter. “That’s ridiculous. They went down near the spits, right? They were probably swept out to sea and drowned.”

“That’s what the newspapers are saying.”

“But you don’t believe it either, do you?”

Moxxi just stared past him, out the front windows of her diner towards the bay. “Stranger things have happened in these parts,” was all she said.

~

“I can’t believe you kept this thing,” Axton said, grinning as he turned the small bracelet over in his hand.

“Of course I did,” Timothy said, taking it out of his hands. It was too small for him to wear now. As a boy he’d worn the poor thing to exhaustion, only taking it off when he noticed some of the sea shells had broken off.

He glanced up, meeting Axton’s gray eyes. “I kept everything you gave me. Well - almost everything. Grandma made me throw out the stuff that started rotting.”

“Understandable,” Axton said, laughing. “A necklace made of kelp and seaweed probably wasn’t the smartest thing to give you. Pretty gross, now that I think about it.”

“But you gave it to me,” Timothy murmured, turning to reverently put the bracelet back into the drawer of the bedside table with all the other trinkets. “That made it special.”

Axton’s grin became a tender smile. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted quietly. He’d been saying that since his first visit days ago, but every single time he got that look in his eyes that made Timothy’s knees weak and his heart lodge itself in his throat.

Timothy ducked his head, feeling his cheeks turn pink. “I’ve missed you, too,” he admitted, just as he had the first time and every time since. This time, though, he added: “You’re pretty much the only thing I’ve missed about this place, honestly.”

“What, the colorful locals ain’t doin’ it for ya?” Axton teased, giving him a playful nudge. “Have you left town at all since you got here?”

“No,” Timothy replied, answering both questions.

“Well, maybe you should.” Axton’s eyes lit up. “Hey, how’s about a little road trip to Fyrestone Point? We can take your boat there no problem.”

Fyrestone Point was a part of the spits near the mouth of the bay. His grandmother had only allowed him to go there once as a kid - though, with Axton’s encouragement, they’d snuck off on day trips sometimes, eager to get away from everything, if only for a little while. There wasn’t anyone around to tell him no anymore, so he agreed.

It took only about twenty minutes to ride through the bay towards the spits. They pulled the boat up to shore before heading towards the old path that spiraled up the rocky cliffside. Timothy knew a lot of teenagers used to use Fyrestone Point as a makeout area, but he doubted they’d run into anyone up there. There weren’t any teenagers in Sanctuary anymore.

The winding, rocky path up the side of the cliff hadn’t changed much in the seventeen years Timothy had been gone, but once they reached the top, Timothy was startled to find that a good portion of the point of Fyrestone Point had actually collapsed into the bay.

“When did this happen?” he asked, attempting and failing to peer over the edge.

Axton just shrugged as he reached out to steady him before vertigo could claim him. “Storm a few years ago.The sea grew so wild that it ripped it all down,” he explained. “That’s where all the rocks we passed came from.”

The rocks that had claimed the lives of three sailors.

Timothy shoved that thought from his mind and turned to stare out at the ocean. It was brighter than the bay, with shades of blue and green glistening in the sunlight like a giant valuable jewel. The contrast between that and the bay on the other side of the mountain was astounding. It was like two different worlds.

“Remember the first time we met?” Axton asked suddenly, sitting down next to him.

“Yes. You popped out of the water by the dock and scared the shit outta me.”

Axton let out a laugh. “Yeah, I did! The look on your face was priceless.”

Timothy huffed out his own laugh. “I’m glad you were so amused.”

He thought back to that moment, looking on it with fondness even though he’d been a sniveling, bruised mess at the time. Jack had just beaten him up for eating the last cookie, and he had gone down to the docks to quietly weep and lick his wounds. He remembered feeling so utterly lonely right then and there, trapped on an island with two people who didn’t care for him in the slightest.

And then Axton, about his age, had popped out of the water with a laugh, startling him so badly that he’d fallen off the dock.

Timothy ducked his head, grinning at the memory. “We were inseparable, after that.”

“Until you left for good.”

Timothy’s mirth faded. “You know why.”

“I do. And for the record, I’m not sorry that happened, either.”

Neither was Timothy. He blamed his grandmother for so many things - now more than ever since he was older and more aware of just how many ways there were to abuse someone.

He stood up and made his way to the other side of the lookout, where he could barely see the outline of Helios in the distance, and the town beyond that. The bay was always so foggy now, he mused. So unlike the rest of the world beyond it.

Axton came up beside him and let his hand brush alongside Timothy’s. Then, after a second of contemplation, quietly laced their fingers together.

“Stay,” he murmured, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Timothy’s knuckles.

Timothy met his gaze. “Okay.”

~

Timothy waited until the sun had gone down to google sirens. He felt foolish doing it, like he was giving into the town’s crazy beliefs, but he figured the sooner he did his research, the sooner he could put his paranoia at ease.

The wiki article told him nothing more than he already knew: sirens were beautiful yet dangerous creatures who could lure sailors to their deaths with their singing. Completely mythical, as seen in favorite tales like the Odyssey and Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and totally one hundred percent not real despite what the townsfolk of Sanctuary might believe. He hadn’t heard any singing in the weeks he’d spent practically at sea, nor had he seen any super attractive women around besides Moxxi. Clearly everyone was just as paranoid as he was.

Content with that knowledge, he lit himself another cigarette and resigned himself to a long night of job hunting.

~

He was dreaming of that day again.

He was fourteen, he’d just spent the last of his meager allowance on sweets from the corner store, and Axton was waiting for him in the boat so that they could go back to Helios together.

Except Wilhelm, a slightly older boy, had caught him first, demanded that they take him to Helios too so that he could hang out with Jack. He and Axton butted heads almost immediately, but ultimately Wilhelm had won and accompanied them on the boat ride back.

Timothy was looking through his own eyes in the dream, so he had an excellent view of Wilhelm and Axton as they verbally lashed out at each other. Wilhelm was smirking the whole while, seemingly unhurt by Axton's vicious tone as he hurled insult after insult at him.

Wait, Timothy wanted to say. That’s not how it happened. Axton wasn't even there that day...was he?

Voiceless, he had no choice but to watch the next series of events unfold. Wilhelm must have said something about Timothy, because he was sneering at him now. Behind him, Axton visibly fumed.

Suddenly the boat rocked violently, dislodging Timothy from his seat. He managed to brace himself on the edge of the boat before he could topple headfirst into the bay's murky waters, but the same could not be said for Wilhelm, who disappeared with a startled cry over the side of the boat.

He resurfaced a second later, furious and sputtering and barking at Timothy to help him back aboard so that he could beat Axton's face in. Just as Timothy was reaching down to offer him a hand up, Wilhelm's face turned white, and his angry expression vanished, replaced by one of pure terror.

Then he was gone, soundlessly yanked back into the depths of the bay. Timothy gaped down at the rippling water, seeing only his own terrified expression staring back at him.

When he woke, he was standing on the beach of his island, butt naked and shivering from the cold wind bursting across the bay. Still seized with terror from his nightmare - no, _reality_ \- he started walking, forcing himself into the frigid waters. He was gasping for breath by the time it was up to his chest, but it wasn’t working, nothing was working, he could still see Wilhelm’s face, practically feel the kid’s terror as he was swallowed by the sea.

This must have been what it felt like for him, Timothy thought as a wave swallowed him briefly, leaving him choking on a mouthful of saltwater. Only Wilhelm never had the chance to take a second breath, never felt the sandy bottom of the bay beneath his feet. He went down and never came up.

Timothy wondered what that would feel like, too.

Someone snagged him around his middle and began to tote him back to shore before he could experience drowning firsthand. Panic surged through him, almost as wild as the waves around them, but then the waves abruptly vanished, as did much of the terror gripping him.

His feet hit dry, sandy shore, and instantly he was on whoever had grabbed him - Axton, he realized belatedly as his fist made contact with the man’s chest.

“Whoa, hey, it’s me,” he exclaimed, grabbing Timothy by his wrist before he could smack him again. “Jeez, darlin’, you weren’t kiddin’ about the sleepwalkin’ thing, huh?”

“How did you get here?”

Axton’s handsome face creased with confusion. “What do you mean? You invited me to stay over, remember?”

Timothy’s mouth moved with his own bafflement. He must have swallowed more saltwater than he thought.

Axton regarded him for another concerned moment before he snapped out of it and began ushering Timothy back towards the house. “It’s okay,” he said, holding him tighter as they climbed the path. “You’re okay, Tim.”

Timothy coughed up another lungful of water. “I’m okay,” he rasped.

~

“Were you the one taking care of this place?”

Axton let out a little “huh?” at Timothy’s question, too distracted by trying to stick the plate he just dried in the very top shelf of the cabinet above the sink. Timothy reached up to do it for him, earning a glare from the slightly shorter man.

“I expected to find this place in shambles when I came back. But everything was fine. Exactly as we left it, practically.”

“Maybe this is a magical island,” Axton offered, wiggling his eyebrows like he was hilarious.

Timothy rolled his eyes and resisted smacking him with the washcloth in his hands. “You haven’t changed at all either.”

“Aren’t you glad, though?”

“Very.”

Axton gave him a little bump, swaying his hips into Timothy’s. “Has this place started feelin’ like home for you yet? You’ve been here, what, a month now?”

Timothy shrugged, feeling his ears turn red. “It didn’t start feeling like anything until you showed up,” he told him softly.

Axton’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Do you remember the very last summer we had here? We’d just carved our names into that tree and…” His smile grew softer, fonder. “I carved a heart around them. And you asked me why I did that.”

Timothy felt his cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah, I remember. You never did give me a straight answer.”

“Straight? No.” Axton chuckled and leaned in a little closer. “But I did give you an answer. One that you seemed to like very much.”

Timothy tilted his head down, his nose brushing Axton’s. “Did you? My memory’s a little fuzzy on that. Maybe you should remind me what it was.”

Axton grinned and closed the gap between them.

~

“I’ve stopped smoking.”

“What?” came Athena’s booming voice over the phone. “How? Why?”

Timothy felt himself smiling bashfully as he briefly explained who Axton was. “Said he didn’t like the taste of it when we kissed,” he said, tracing his finger in the sand. “So I stopped.”

“Just like that?” Athena snorted. “Well, if I had known that’s all it takes, I would’ve smooched you years ago.”

Timothy sputtered out a laugh that, for once, didn’t sound forced or hollow. “Thanks but no thanks,” he said, grinning.

“Are you happy?” Athena asked when he finally stopped laughing.

Timothy hummed as a tiny wave rolled in and washed away the scribbling he’d made in the sand. “I think I am,” he admitted quietly, watching the water recede. “He makes me happy. Even after all this time.”

“That’s a good sign. I take it you’re planning on staying in Sanctuary, then?”

“Uh huh. He’s, um, already kinda sorta moved in with me, so...”

“Wow, and it only took Janey and I six years to take that leap,” Athena said wryly. Timothy could almost see the almost non-existent smile on her face. “I’m glad you’re happy, Timothy. I’m glad you found someone who could make you feel that way.”

So was he.

~

Timothy was just coming out of the laundromat when he remembered that he wanted to make Axton his favorite meal for dinner. It was already late, so he wasted little time in heading towards the general store, hoping that there were still some of the day’s catch for sale.

Unfortunately when he got there, he found only two brands of fish still available, and neither of them were Axton’s favorite. In lieu of cooking him something that he actually hated, Timothy made his way to the counter, hoping that Axton was still hard at work somewhere and he could just ask him.

“Hi,” he greeted the store owner, setting the rest of his purchases on the counter. “Is Axton here? I’d like to speak with him.”

Felix wrinkled his nose. “Do you mean August?

“I - no, Axton. A little shorter than I am, sandy hair, gray eyes? He - he told me he works here.”

“Sorry, nobody here by that name,” Felix told him, bagging the last of his items.

“Are - are you sure?” Timothy babbled. Why would Axton lie about working here? It wasn’t like Timothy was about to judge him for not being employed when he himself made zero income.

“If you’re looking for someone, you should try asking the deputy, or checking out the library. The town keeps all its records there.”

He would definitely do that. Still shaken, Timothy left the store, flinching at the sound of the bell ringing as he opened the door. On the walk back to his car, he spotted Felix’s kids and their friends, two brown-haired boys, playing in the alley between the general store and the auto repair place.

“Hey,” he called to them, momentarily making all four of them freeze up. “Hey, hi, remember me, girls?”

“The ghosts haven’t eaten you yet?” Sasha asked, grinning.

“I...no, not yet. I have a question. Do you guys know who works for your dad in the store? Was there ever anyone there named Axton?”

The girls exchanged looks. “There’s August,” Fiona began listing. “He’s gross. There’s Earl and Karima - she’s super nice and pretty - and sometimes Scooter's sister Ellie comes to do some shifts in the summer when it’s busier…”

“But no one named Axton?”

The girls shook their heads. The one boy, the taller of the two, was staring at Timothy like he was either really, really cool or something terrifying. Maybe both.

Timothy told the group goodbye, hoping he didn’t sound as freaked out as he was feeling, and headed back towards his car, gripping his shopping bags.

“He was really handsome,” he heard the tall boy say to the others.

“He’s gonna be dead soon ‘cos of the ghosts, so don’t bother,” Sasha told him, huffing.

~

“Why did you lie to me?” Timothy asked him over dinner that night. He’d only been able to scrounge together the energy to make Axton and himself some scrambled eggs with ham and broccoli. Timothy had hardly touched his.

Axton’s eyes snapped to his, his fork half-raised to his mouth. “About what?” he asked quietly.

“Working at the general store in town. I went there today asking for you and nobody’s heard of you, let alone hired you to work there,” Timothy said. He didn’t mean to sound so snappish, but he was stressed out and probably suffering from nicotine withdrawal.

Axton set his fork down, now looking regretful. “I just...wanted you to think I’d been doin’ somthin’ with myself since you’d been gone,” he muttered, frowning down at his food. “You went to college and got a degree. I’ve jumped from dead-end job to dead-end job in the same goddamned town I’ve been in my whole life.”

Timothy frowned sadly at him. “I wouldn’t judge you for that,” he said. “Yeah, I went to college, but I haven’t done a goddamned thing since then. I have no job, no income, nothing.”

“You got me,” Axton offered quietly. “If you still want me.”

Timothy cracked a grin. “Of course I do,” he said gently. The thought of losing him now, just when things were starting to feel okay again - it made him terribly nervous. “Just...no more lies, okay? You don’t have to impress me or anything, Ax.”

Axton offered him a small smile and went back to eating. Timothy realized later on that night that Axton never actually agreed to keep that promise, but, as the man was currently deep inside him, he didn’t have the heart to bring it up.

“Harder,” Timothy begged, wrapping his legs around Axton’s hips. He didn’t want to be able to think.

But Axton was pulling away and turning to stare blankly out the window next to the bed. It was nearing sundown and most of the bay had gone quiet.

“What is it?” Timothy asked, trying to draw him back.

The man shook his head and slid away, pulling on a pair of shorts before moving down the hall towards the front door. A moment later, Timothy heard it click shut.

He was just coming into the living room when Axton came back in the house. Timothy gave a start when he noticed he wasn’t alone; he had one of those kids from town in tow - the tall one who had looked at Timothy like he was a god or something.

“Looks like you’ve got a bit of a stowaway, darlin’,” he grumbled, giving the kid a nudge.

“What the hell,” Timothy groused, frowning. “What are you doing creeping around my house, kid?”

“I lost a bet with Fiona,” the kid mumbled sheepishly, shrugging. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to steal anything, I swear, I was just supposed to survive the night with the ghosts.”

Timothy rolled his eyes. “The only ghost around here is gonna be you if your mother finds out where you’ve gone. What’s your name?”

“Rhys,” the kid said, puffing out his chest.

“Well, Rhys, you are in a boatload of trouble,” Timothy said, making the kid deflate almost instantly. “This place is dangerous - and not just because you think there’re ghosts or whatever. What if you’d fallen out of the boat on the way here? Nobody would’ve known.”

Rhys scuffed his shoe on the floor. “I know.” He blinked, then looked up at him with huge, watery eyes. “Please don’t tell my mom.”

Timothy sighed and rubbed his temples. “Only if you swear never to come here again,” he said. “And stop listening to your friends when they try to get you to do dumb stuff.”

Rhys frowned, but nodded in agreement. “Okay.”

“Want me to take him back to town?” Axton asked, putting his hand on the kid’s fluffy hair.

Timothy nodded. “Make sure he gets home in one piece, please.” The last thing he needed on top of all his usual stress and anxiety was the police snooping around looking for a lost boy.

Axton turned and sent him a strange, emotionless look then. “All right,” he said. “But only ‘cos you asked me to.”

Timothy resumed breathing, not even aware that he had stopped for the moment it took for Axton to agree.

~

He woke at the very edge of the dock. It was dark, the water choppy and loud in his ears.

“Stop this,” he said. His voice was small and tired, like the rest of him. “Please, you’re killing me.”

The sea sounded like it was laughing.

Timothy’s leg twitched, but before he could topple into the frothing water, someone grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. Timothy blinked at the sight of Axton standing before him, tight-lipped and pale, even in the darkness.

“Darlin’, what’re you doin’ all the way out here?” he asked, voice absurdly smooth and soothing compared to the storm raging inside Timothy at that moment. “Come on, let’s get you back inside.”

As Axton led him away from the dock, Timothy felt his fear and panic wane drastically, leaving him so tired he could hardly stand. “What’re you doing here?” he slurred, head lolling. “How did you…” He turned towards the dock again, noting that the only boat there was his.

“You’re okay,” Axton told him, brushing his hand over the back of Timothy’s head.

“I’m okay,” Timothy agreed, shutting his eyes.

~

Rhys was walking down the sidewalk, dragging a stick alongside the buildings he passed, no doubt on his way to the corner store to pester Sasha and Fiona. Timothy slowed his car a bit, grateful to see that the kid had made it home.

“Rhys,” he called, making the poor kid jump a little until he saw who was behind the wheel of the car that had just pulled up alongside him. “I’m glad you made it home okay. Did Axton take you all the way to your house?”

The kid blinked. “Huh?”

Timothy’s smile waned a bit. “Yesterday, when you snuck on board my boat to Helios - ”

Rhys paled and backed away from him. “I’m not allowed to go there,” he said in a shaky voice. “My mom said so.”

Timothy stared at him. “But you were there yesterday. You lost a bet.”

“No I wasn’t. Are you - are you high? Drugs are bad for you, you know. Mom told me that, too.”

The kid didn’t sound sarcastic or angry - just concerned and a little wary. Timothy held his gaze for a minute, finding no sign of deception in his multi-colored gaze, before putting his car in drive.

“Guess I dreamed it,” he said, then pulled away.

~

The town’s library was small and didn’t stand out any more than the other buildings, meaning Timothy almost drove past it. There was an older man behind the desk near the entrance; his nametag read ‘Alistair’. Timothy offered him a greeting, making the poor guy jump in his seat.

“Good heavens!” he exclaimed, setting his book down. “Forgive me, dear boy, it’s very unusual to see someone at this hour. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Actually, um, I was wondering if there was a way I could access the town’s records? I’m trying to find some information on some ancestors of mine.”

“Oh, I don’t see why not. Follow me, please.”

Alistair led him to the second floor where they kept all of their paper files on the town - newspapers, birth records, everything. There were more files on the dusty computer in the corner, Alistair explained, but that old thing hadn’t been turned on let alone updated in ten years, so there wasn’t much point in it.

After thanking the librarian, Timothy spent the whole day browsing through all the files he could find, even the ones dating back to the fifties when the town was just getting started. It was all pretty fascinating, honestly; apparently Sanctuary had been founded by some mere settlers a hundred or so years ago, and the place had quickly reached its prime as people from the surrounding towns started trekking there during their summers to enjoy the bay and its “cool blue waters.”

Something must have happened between then and the last twenty years, but there was a severe lack of information. One minute Sanctuary was a coastal paradise, and the next it was a ghost town save for the locals, its bay dark and uninviting. Accidents happened sporadically - boats went down, people drowned or just simply went missing. One particular incident, a major storm a little less than twenty years ago, swallowed part of Fyrestone Point. It was enough to drive everyone but the locals away.

Speaking of locals - he was able to uncover most of the town’s genealogy records on file. Most of them were direct descendants from the original settlers who founded the town all those years ago, though a handful - like Felix and his kids and Rhys and Vaughn - were fairly new additions to the town.

All of that information, and not once did any of it mention anyone named Axton.

~

Timothy was sitting on the edge of the docks in town when he felt footsteps on the wooden planks. He didn’t turn around, didn’t tear his eyes away from the island in the middle of the bay, even as Deputy Winger spoke to him.

“Son, you all right? You look awful.”

Timothy’s mouth moved wordlessly for a moment. “I need a cigarette,” he finally rasped, craning his head to stare at the other man.

Winger frowned, then fumbled for his own pack. “Wasn’t aware that you quit,” he said, passing him a cigarette and his lighter.

Timothy lit the thing and inhaled frantically, hard enough to make himself cough and choke on the smoke invading his lungs. He didn’t care; he needed that hit, needed the lightheaded feeling that came with the nicotine kicking in.

“I didn’t. I mean, I did. I just…” Axton had asked him to quit, not liking the taste of cigarettes on his tongue when they kissed. Perhaps going cold-turkey instantly hadn’t been the best choice of action, he mused.

A thought struck him then. Withdrawal. Of course. His paranoia and nightmares and sleepwalking - surely they must have been impacted by his choice to suddenly stop smoking.

Timothy looked out over the bay towards the little island. “I’m okay,” he said. With the cold bay wind blowing in his ears, he almost sounded believable. “I’m okay.”

~

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Axton hummed as he skipped another rock across the water. The seas were calm today, barely even lapping at the shoreline. “Sure. Why, you think you’ve seen one?”

Timothy stared at him, watching from his peripheral as he flawlessly skipped another rock. “No.”

~

He woke up in the water. Timothy’s first instinct was to gasp as the shock of it seized him, but all that did was send a mouthful of freezing cold salt water straight into his lungs.

Somehow, he managed to breach the surface and suck in some air, hacking and coughing and flailing as the sea churned and tossed him about as if he were nothing at all. He couldn’t see past the saltwater in his eyes, past the darkness creeping in on him from all sides.

Something grabbed his leg and pulled him down under again, cutting off his panicked scream before it could really even form. He thrashed as much as he could, trying to shake whatever it was away from him, but nothing he did worked to free himself.

He was dying, he realized, choking on another scream. And stupidly, all he could think about at that very moment was that Sasha was right. The ghosts got him.

As if reading his mind, there were suddenly creatures around him, things he couldn’t make out through the darkness of the water. At first all they did was bump into him, forcing him deeper down into the sea, but all too soon they were converging on him, grabbing his flailing arms and sinking their teeth into him.

And then, just like that, they were gone, vanishing into the darkness with muted shrieks and cries as another mass surged into Timothy’s blurry line of sight.

Suddenly air was being forced into his lungs as he breached the surface again. Something was gripping him around his middle, holding him afloat on the now calmer sea.

“I got you, darlin’,” someone cooed in his ear, but Timothy was too far gone to respond.

~

The next time he woke, it was midday. He found himself lying flat on his back in his little row boat, damp and itchy with seasalt. The gray sky sat heavy and thick above him, the sign of an impending storm, and yet the waters that rocked him were gentle, practically non-existent. If it wasn’t for the occasional sloshing, he would have thought he’d been on land.

Timothy jerked up, only to let out a curse when he realized he was in open water, the shore being maybe half a mile away from where he was adrift. 

He chanced a glance at the stern. The motor was gone, looking as if it had been ripped clean off the back of the boat. There were no oars for him to row with, the boat completely bare save for him, so unless he wanted to lean over the side and start paddling, he was shit out of luck.

Panic officially began to bloom in his lungs. How the hell had this happened?

“I’ve lost it,” he started babbling, folding his knees to his chest. “I lost my fucking mind. I knew it. I knew I was crazy this whole time, deciding to come back to this hellhole instead of letting a lawyer handle it. Fuck, fuck, I’m so stupid, I’m so out of my goddamned mind…”

A stabbing pain in his arm made his frantic mumbling trail off into nonsensical noises and whimpers. With shaking a shaking hand, he rolled up his sleeve and found the inflamed ring of jagged teeth marks on his forearm.

Something bumped against the bottom of the boat with a dull thump. Timothy screamed and flattened himself, wanting to get away from the sides of the boat in case whatever it was that had attacked him tried to nab him again.

“Stop screamin’, will ya? My head’s killin’ me.”

The sound of Axton’s voice snapped Timothy out of his panic. He sat up again and chanced a quick peek over the edge of the boat, only to let out a choked noise that was half glee and half terror at the sight of Axton floating alongside him, his head the only visible part of him above the surface of the black waters.

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing?” he squealed, reaching over to haul the man into the boat with him. “Get in here! We have to find a way back to shore before…!”

Axton’s arm turned to water and slipped through his fingers, back into the sea. Axton didn’t so much as blink, though his expression was still a little tight, even with half his face submerged.

Timothy stared at him, at his wet hand. “Oh god.”

“Close, but no.”

Timothy let out a strangled noise and backpedaled so hard that he almost flipped the boat when his back slammed into the other side of it. Nonsensical noises and words tumbled out of him as he curled onto his side and brought his knees up to his chest.

Time passed, or maybe it didn’t. It was hard to tell when the world around him was gray and quiet, save for the occasional sloshing of water against the side of the boat.

“Are you angry with me?” Axton asked after a while. He was on the other side of the boat now.

“Any reason why I shouldn’t be?” Timothy muttered.

Axton scoffed, and something thumped against the underside of the boat again, making Timothy jerk. “I mean, I only got the shit beaten outta me for tryin’ to save you from the others, but okay, sure, be salty.”

Timothy sat up again and noticed for the first time the scratches on Axton’s face and his swollen eye. “Who beat you?”

“The others. You know them. You’ve seen them before.”

Abruptly Timothy remembered: the eyes, feeling like he was being watched constantly on that island...those sharp voices laughing at him, calling to him even in his dreams. Those claws and teeth tearing into him when he’d finally listened to them and taken the plunge.

“What are they?” he rasped, almost afraid to hear the answer. _What are you?_

“I guess you can say my cousins. Sisters. Distant relatives.”

Timothy took a deep breath. "Did they kill Wilhelm all those years ago?"

"No. I did."

Timothy shut his eyes.

"He wanted to hurt you. I could feel it," Axton snapped, making the boat rock with his anger. "I wasn't going to let him."

"And then you made me forget exactly what I saw. Just like you made Rhys forget coming to Helios. Isn't that right?" At his silence, Timothy sat up again, finding Axton floating by the stern. "And the sailors that disappeared? Did you kill them, too?"

"No. The others did that. They were angry."

"Why were they angry?"

Axton shrugged, making the water around his ears ripple. "They've been trying to get to you since you came back to Helios. That island is ours. Everythin' in this bay is."

Timothy wanted to argue, but there was no point. “Has everything been a lie?” he asked wetly. “How do I know you haven’t manipulated my memories from the very beginning?”

Axton’s brow furrowed, saddened that he would think such a thing, but no doubt knowing he couldn’t really fucking blame him. “I only want you to be happy,” he burbled, sinking until only his eyes were visible. Yet, he continued speaking; it was as it his voice was rising from the water around them. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you - since the day I saw you cryin’ on the docks.”

“Why?”

“I guess ‘cos deep down, I was hurtin' and lonely, too.”

Timothy blinked away the stinging sensation in his eyes. He wanted to argue, claim that he had the whole ocean at his disposal so how the fuck could he be lonely. But sometimes having the whole world in the palm of your head wasn’t enough to get rid of that feeling.

“I still want to make you happy, darlin’. Tell me: what do you want?”

Timothy scowled down at him. “Take me back!”

“Are you sure?”

Timothy very nearly shouted yes. He let his gaze drift past Axton, towards the tiny island in the distance that he could scarcely see through the fog that had rolled in. From here, it looked so small. Everything seemed so damned small and irrelevant now.

“What do you want?” Axton asked again, softer.

Timothy’s mouth moved, but it took a while for words to creep out. “I want to go home,” he said finally, eyes never leaving Axton’s.

Axton lifted his arm out of the water and extended his hand to him, his expression as open as the sea around them. “Then come home, darlin’.”

Timothy stared at him, then slowly peeled his eyes away to gape at his offered hand.

One short minute later, he reached a decision.

Carefully, he took Axton’s hand, lacing his fingers through his. He stayed solid this time, his skin cold to the touch, but when Axton surged up out of the water to kiss him, Timothy found his lips warm and inviting.

Axton’s other hand came up to caress the back of his neck, bringing him closer. Timothy felt his world shift, and a moment later, the dark waters of Pandora’s Bay fell still once more.


End file.
